


my love is building a building around you

by jemmasimmmons



Series: the deepest secret nobody knows [3]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Baby Fic, F/M, Pregnancy, Soulmates AU, mostly happy with a little bit of angsty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-10
Updated: 2016-08-10
Packaged: 2018-08-07 23:43:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7734370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jemmasimmmons/pseuds/jemmasimmmons
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Fitz groans and gets to his feet, gently heaving her up with him. After so long sitting down, the sudden imbalance in weight makes Jemma sway and she reaches up to grip his forearm to steady herself. ‘You’re impossible.’</p>
<p>She hums in agreement. ‘But you love me anyway.’</p>
<p>Fitz’s hands encircle her waist, pulling her as close into him as her bump will allow. ‘I love you because of it.’"</p>
<p>In which Fitz and Jemma create a new soul. Still, still a soulmates AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	my love is building a building around you

**Author's Note:**

> first of all, you can blame this tumblr post: http://nightlocktime.tumblr.com/post/147504727006/tastefullyoffensive-via-batgaz. i saw it and immediately thought 'imagine the soulmates au' and now here we are.
> 
> i adore this universe, it's one of my favourites, and so it's highly likely i'll return to it sometime. the title, once more, comes from the poem by e. e. cummings.
> 
> find me on tumblr @jeemmasimmons and on twitter @jemmasimmmons. i hope you like this!

 

 

_a frail slippery house_

_a strong fragile house_

_(beginning at the singular beginning of your smile)_

  1. _e. cummings_



 

 

There is an ache in Jemma’s back, way down low where her spine meets her hips.

She has been getting very used to aches over the last couple of months – aches in her back, in her feet, in her shoulders – and she is now very good at working through them, with some regular stretches and deep breathing. But, for some reason, today this ache is refusing to budge and is sitting stubbornly at the base of her spine, making her feel nauseous and making every position she tries to sit in uncomfortable.

And there were only so many positions you could sit in when you were eight months pregnant.

With a sigh, Jemma shifts in her chair again, leaning heavily to one side to try and relieve the ache but the additional weight at her middle puts her off balance and she almost topples over, only just grasping the side of the desk in time. Reluctantly, she settles back into her previous position, in the centre of the chair with both her arms on the arm rests and tries to concentrate on the research in front of her.

She must have zoned out, absorbed by the images on the computer screen because the next thing she knows there are hands on her shoulders, sliding down her sides to join fingers across her bump. Jemma can’t help but give a little start at the unexpectedness of it, but as soon as she feels Fitz’s lips brush against her hair she relaxes.

‘Hi,’ he whispers from behind, peppering kisses to the top of her head.

‘Mmm.’ Jemma leans back into his touch, a slow, lazy smile spreading over her face. ‘Hello there.’

Fitz starts to move his kisses down to her hairline, to the top of her ear and down her neck, and she can hear his breath, a tickle against her skin that makes her shiver.

‘Stand up for me?’ he asks.

Jemma frowns, but then she feels his hands slip underneath her own and he all but lifts her to her feet, allowing her to put her full weight on him (which, at this point, was rather a lot). He lets go of one of her hands, balancing her on the other, and when Jemma feels them start to wobble and she sways forward on her feet, steadying the both of them. Fitz kisses her on the cheek, gratefully, and squeezes her hand.

‘Okay,’ he breathes, ‘you can sit back down now.’

He carefully guides her back down into the chair, exactly where she had been before, and when her back meets the seat Jemma gasps out loud. Behind her, where before there had only been thin leather covering, there is now a soft cushion, shaped perfectly to support her back, that even as she sits in it starts to heat up, gently vibrating enough to relieve the ache that had been bothering her since she’d woken up that morning.

‘Ohhhh.’ She groans, tipping her head back to allow the relief to seep in. ‘Oh, God.’

She can feel Fitz grin, his lips pressed to the crown of her head. ‘Pretty good, yeah?’

‘God, _Fitz_ …’

Jemma pushes the chair, spinning it around on its wheels so she is facing him. Fitz rests his hands on the arm rests and she uses the opportunity to reach out and pull his face towards her, kissing him deeply on the lips. He leans into it, allowing her to run her tongue around the inside of his teeth, before pulling back so their foreheads touch.

With a sigh, Jemma opens her eyes and feels something flutter pleasantly inside her as she sees Fitz looking back at her, an amused grin on his face.

‘It’s heavenly,’ she sighs, and reaches up to pat his cheeks with a rueful smile. ‘Thank you.’

Fitz grasps one of her hands before she can draw them away, and presses a kiss quickly to her palm. ‘You’re absolutely welcome.’

‘Did you make it today? But how did you know I needed it? I don’t think I mentioned anything to you, did I…?’

But even as she says it, she sees his raised eyebrow and she trails off, remembering that she doesn’t need to tell him _anything_ for him to know that she is aching.

In the two years since they’d first discovered their soulmate bond, their understanding of the phenomena has advanced greatly. They have learnt better control too, including an ability Jemma has dubbed ‘tapping’. Essentially, it allows them to ‘tap’ into the other person’s pain and understand it without taking it into themselves. It works a little like a temperature gauge, and it means that they are able to recognise when the other is hurting even when they aren’t willing to admit it.

In effect, it is just another way in which they are just as much a part of each other as they are of themselves.

‘I might have tapped into you this morning,’ Fitz admits. ‘And I knew you’d never say anything to me, so in my free time today I did some tinkering and…’ He gestures behind her. ‘It’s just a little thing.’

_It is_ , Jemma thinks, _but it’s so much more than that too_.

‘It’s perfect,’ she repeats, and flashes him a cheeky grin. ‘Do I get to take it into bed too?’

‘Oh, absolutely not.’ Fitz pulls a mock horrified face and leans in closer, so that she can feel his breath on her lips. ‘No, once we’re in bed it’s _my_ job to take away your aches and pains.’

Jemma chuckles lightly and closes the small distance between them to kiss him again, slipping her hands around the back of his neck to draw him closer into her. Fitz responds eagerly, parting her lips with his mouth and threading his fingers through her hair, as if he could lock them together.

‘Speaking of bed,’ he says hopefully, pressing a kiss to the base of her neck in a way that elicits a little moan of pleasure from his wife, ‘can we go? Now?’

Jemma groans again, feeling the soft tug of desire deep in her gut. ‘Soon. I promise.’ She pulls away from him with reluctance and slides the chair back to the desk. ‘I just need to finish up on this…’

‘Jemma…’ She hears Fitz sigh behind her and feels his hands slide back down her body, cradling the bump. ‘It’s ten o’clock at night.’

‘I know, I know, just five more minutes…’

Fitz rests his chin on top of her head. ‘It’s ten o’clock at night,’ he repeats softly, ‘on your last day of work before maternity leave.’

All of a sudden, there is a lump in Jemma’s throat and she has to blink to hold back her tears. With a shaky sigh, she leans back into him and Fitz’s arms open up, folding her into them.

Somehow, just like always, he’s managed to hit the nail right on the head.

When her OB had first recommended that she take her leave earlier than she’d been planning to, Jemma had felt her heart drop into the carpet of the office. Initially, she had wanted to be working right up until her due date, potentially even having the baby in the field if necessary, and even though Fitz had his (very well meaning) concerns about that she knew that he had respected her decision and would support her through it.

But her OB had gently told her that, because of various complications, that wasn’t going to be sensible and now here she is, having to leave her wonderful lab four weeks earlier than expected and the thought that she wasn’t going to be coming back until after the baby was born is making her stomach twist with anxiety.

‘I don’t want to leave,’ she whispers, not trusting herself to speak any louder.

Fitz nods, his chin rubbing against his hair. ‘You’re not really leaving though,’ he murmurs. ‘You’re just going to be sitting in the room next door with your feet up, and I’ll be giving you hourly updates on what we’re doing. You’ll still get to call all the shots. You’ll just be doing it while taking it easy.’

‘I know, I know.’ Jemma sighs and Fitz’s knuckles come up to brush gently under her eyes, wiping away her tears. ‘But it’s going to be different even so.’

At that moment, she feels a soft kick in her abdomen as, underneath her and Fitz’s joint hands, their baby moves. This kind of movement isn’t anything new, but there is something about the apt timing of this kick that brings fresh tears to Jemma’s eyes.

Fitz chuckles. ‘Apparently someone wants you to remember that it’s going to be a _good_ different.’

Through her tears, Jemma laughs, resting her hands across her belly where she can feel where the baby is. ‘Oh, it is, isn’t it? It really is.’

She kisses a fingertip, and presses it to their baby’s head. Then, she takes a deep breath and twists her head around to look imploringly at her husband. ‘But let me finish this before we go to bed. I _need_ to finish, so we can close this chapter and open our next. And I’m really excited for that one.’

Fitz’s eyes are soft as he watches her and he bends down to kiss her again, brushing his thumb against her cheekbone as he does so.

‘Me too,’ he whispers and, letting go of her, he reaches behind him to drag a stool up to her work bench and sits down heavily on it. He nods towards her computer screen and smiles. ‘Let’s close this chapter, then.’

Without the distraction of her back ache, Jemma is able to pour all her focus into her work and it takes her all of two minutes to finish up what she had been wanting to. Shutting down the computer, she turns to Fitz with a smirk and a smug tilt of the head.

‘There,’ she sings. ‘Chapter closed.’

He rolls his eyes skyward and rolls forward on his stool to take her hands. ‘Chapter closed,’ he repeats. ‘Now, can we please, _please_ go to bed?’

‘Oh, God, absolutely. I’m bloody exhausted.’

Fitz groans and gets to his feet, gently heaving her up with him. After so long sitting down, the sudden imbalance in weight makes Jemma sway and she reaches up to grip his forearm to steady herself. ‘You’re impossible.’

She hums in agreement. ‘But you love me anyway.’

Fitz’s hands encircle her waist, pulling her as close into him as her bump will allow. ‘I love you _because_ of it.’

Jemma grins as he leans forward to kiss her again, his lips soft and slow, as if he is purposefully taking as long to kiss her as he can, as if they have all the time in the world. Even after two years together, it still gives her a deep thrill to remember that they _do_.

‘Bedtime now?’ she suggests once he draws back.

Fitz nods, bending forward to press a kiss to the top of her nose. ‘Please.’

‘Alright, I’ll just collect my things.’

His hands slide down her sides and let her go as she turns away to grab her cardigan from the next bench. Jemma can feel the press of his fingers lingering on her skin still and it makes her smile, to feel his warmth seeping into her bones, making her feel lighter, brighter, like he always has. Inside, all her anxiety has dissipated, leaving behind only excitement.

‘Did you make a list of names?’ she asks, unplugging her phone from the charger. ‘Because I’ve got mine and we should probably start making a spreadsheet, see which ones we’ve got in common.’

Fitz nods, leaning back on the desk. ‘Yeah, I’ve got a list. Two; one for girl’s names and one for boy’s. But actually, there was something else I wanted to talk to you about tonight.’

‘Oh?’ Jemma raises an eyebrow at him curiously, tucking a pen behind her ear. ‘And what’s that then?’

She turns back towards him, a little ungainly. Fitz is standing at her computer with his fingers tapping anxiously against the bench in an erratic rhythm, a hauntingly familiar habit that makes her chest tighten.

‘Fitz?’ She takes a step towards him, gripping at the corner of the desk to support herself. ‘What’s wrong?’

He takes a deep breath and quickly pinches the bridge of his nose. ‘When, uh, when you have the baby, I…I want to be there.’

Jemma exhales in relief, all of her held breath rushing out of her so fast that it turns into a laugh. ‘Oh, Fitz! Of course you’ll be there, I’d never want you anywhere else. I have asked May to be there too, you know, but I’d imagine the room will be big enough for the three of us. If not, then we’ll just have to make do, because I want you there _too_.’

Her smile dies away when she sees that Fitz is shaking his head.

‘No, Jemma, that wasn’t quite what I meant, ah…’ He suck in deeply, and she waits, allowing him to collect his words before he tries again. ‘I want to be able to share the experience with you. I want to be able to hold your hand while it’s happening.’

Jemma nods, still a little confused. ‘Yes, and I want you to be there. I want you to do that. I don’t know whether I _could_ do it if you weren’t there.’

Fitz sighs again, and takes two strides forward to take her hands, holding them between his own. He lifts his head up and meets her eyes, holding her gaze steadily. The deep sincerity etched across his face momentarily leaves Jemma breathless.

‘When you have this baby,’ he tells her carefully, placing a gentle emphasis on his words. ‘I want to be able to share _every single part_ of the experience.’

And just like that, Jemma finally understands what he means. Her husband, her wonderful, funny, warm, selfless soulmate, wants to use their bond to share her pain during the birth of their child.

She can’t help it; she laughs, her eyes misting up with tears and she steps forward into him, winding her arms around his neck.

‘Oh, Fitz! You don’t need to do that.’

He cups her cheek in his hand, his eyes still wide with earnest. ‘But I want to.’

Jemma groans and drops her head onto his shoulder. ‘Fitz, it’s really not necessary. Women have been going through childbirth for _millennia_ without a soulmate bond to help them. You don’t need to do this.’

He falls silent, and, just for a moment, Jemma thinks she might have won. But then Fitz pulls her lightly away from his shoulder so that they are eye to eye again, and she remembers that when it comes to stubbornness the two of them are as equally matched as they are in everything else.

‘Exception,’ he says firmly, but she can feel the way his hands are trembling as he holds her.

‘I’m sorry?’

‘Exception,’ Fitz repeats. ‘You got to use yours that time I got shot on Radcliffe’s roof. I want to use mine now.’

Jemma shakes her head, her grip on his shoulders tightening. ‘Fitz, I didn’t make that rule for it to be a get-out-of-jail-free card! It’s for life or death situations! That time on the roof, that was one, but this…this isn’t!’

‘But…’ He surges forward, catching her face between his hands, and it is only up this close that she can see the fear in his eyes. ‘It _could_ be.’

Jemma’s breathing catches in her throat and it feels like someone has kicked her in the chest. Not for the first time since she discovered she was pregnant, she inwardly curses all her inconvenient extra-terrestrial encounters.

Her OB is very well versed in SHIELD activity, and her own history within the organisation specifically. From her very first appointment, she had been frank, but kind, with Jemma about the potential risks her previous occupational hazards would have on her pregnancy.

So far, both she and the baby have been very lucky, but the words of the doctor have been trailing after her for the past few months, catching her and Fitz up every so often and choking them like smoke. It is an unpleasant, bitter reminder that not even their soulmate bond is enough to fully erase the pain of what they have had to go through.

Taking a deep breath, Jemma swallows the lump in her throat. ‘Dr. Foster said,’ she says evenly, ‘that there was a possibility of complications, yes…’

‘A possibility,’ Fitz corrects her, his voice quivering, ‘of premature labour, erratic blood pressure, low cholesterol and she didn’t even have a bloody clue as to what the Chitauri virus might have done. Or could do.’

‘Stop.’ There is a tightness in Jemma’s chest making it hard for her to breath, and she drops her forehead down to rest against his. Their joint hands hold together, a bridge between their bodies. ‘Please stop.’

Fitz does immediately and he nods, sucking in a breath, before lifting his head to kiss her on the cheek. ‘Sorry, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. I didn’t want to scare you. It’s just that…’

He sighs, and Jemma raises her head to him, so that they are eye to eye.

‘You’ve always been there for me,’ he whispers, ‘when I needed you to be. And this time, I want to be there for you.’

Something twists inside Jemma’s heart; something pulls. She finds herself remembering all the past times they had shared their pain – from her first time just after the pod, to his first time in the Playground corridor, to all the immeasurable, forgettable moments in between then and now that added up to so much more.

She remembers how irrevocably right all those times had felt.

Fitz brings his head down to rest against hers, so that they are pressed temple to temple and she can feel his pulse beating against hers. She thinks back, to just five minutes ago, when he had sat down next to her and allowed her to finish what she needed to. Whatever he might think, he has always been there when she needed him to be too.

She feels him swallow, and watches his throat bob.

‘Please,’ he says, ‘let this be my exception.’

Jemma shakes her head. ‘It doesn’t need to be.’

Fitz groans, drawing backwards again. ‘Jemma…’

Before he can say another word, she hushes him, placing one finger to his lips. His eyes widen, and Jemma smiles. ‘It doesn’t need to be your exception,’ she says softly, ‘because I give you permission to do it.’

Fitz’s mouth had been frozen, in a perfect _o_ shape, but now it splits into a delighted grin. ‘Wait, seriously?’

‘Seriously.’ She squeezes his hand. ‘I want you to be there with me.’

‘I will be,’ he says, nodding his head vigorously. ‘I’ll be there the whole time; I promise.’

Jemma laughs, the excitement in his voice lifting her up, making her buoyant. Fitz wraps his arms around her to pull her in closer, careful of her bump, and she can feel his hands on her back, rubbing her gently in all her sore spots.

‘I know you will,’ she says, ‘and I love you for it.’

Fitz grins, and tucks a loose strand of her hair back behind her ear, letting his hand linger against her skin. ‘And I love you too.’

Jemma smiles as he leans in to kiss her, his lips falling over hers as he cradles her head in his hand. For a moment, she allows herself to be lost in the tenderness of the kiss, how slowly and deliberately Fitz is moving their lips together, as if he is trying to commit the shape of her mouth to memory. As if he does not already know her by heart.

Fitz’s fingers slip down her neck to brush over her collarbone and Jemma feels a deep thrill in the pit of her stomach as the pace of their kiss changes, to something more passionate, more heated. She can feel her heart start to quicken inside her chest, and Fitz’s breathing is becoming more rapid as he presses kiss after kiss to her lips.

It is only when he carefully walks her back so that they are pressed against the workbench together, that Jemma realises begrudgingly that, if she lets him kiss her here any longer, her dratted hormones were going to give Coulson quite the shock when he checked the security footage in the morning.

‘Fitz,’ she breathes.

‘Hmm?’ He has one hand firmly held in between her shoulder blades, supporting her against the bench, as his lips trace the nape of her neck making her feel weak at the knees. ‘What is it?’

Not quite firmly, Jemma lifts his head up, so that she can give him a pointed look. ‘I thought,’ she says coyly, ‘that we were heading to bed?’

‘Oh, yes.’ Fitz splays both hands across the sides of her bump, where he might imagine that the baby’s ears might be, and gives her a sly wink. ‘’Bed’, if that’s what Mum wants to call it.’

Jemma snorts, swatting his arm away. ‘That is most definitely what Mum wants to call it.’

Fitz kisses her once more, lightly and on the lips, before offering her his arm. Jemma takes it, tucking her hand into the crook of his elbow and leaning her head on his shoulder.

They walk out of the lab together, leaving the lights low and the power humming, ready and waiting for their own new chapter to start.

 

 

 

‘Oh, you did so _well_!’

‘Don’t…don’t do that…’

‘But you did! You did so well, incredibly well…’

‘Oh, stop…’

‘…do you need another cold flannel on your forehead?’

Fitz lifts his head up from the bed sheets where he’d buried his face, and Jemma has to bite her lip to keep herself from laughing out loud at how grey his face is and how there is a thin sheen of sweat on his neck.

‘Jemma, please don’t patronise me.’

She does laugh then, a quiet chuckle, as she reaches up to run her fingers through his hair affectionately. Fitz catches her hand before she can pull it away and presses a quick kiss to the back of it.

‘You really were wonderful,’ Jemma says, as sincerely as she can. ‘The whole time. I mean that.’

Fitz raises his face towards her and, even though he looks exhausted, he manages a smile. ‘I think that’s supposed to be my line.’

She nudges him. ‘Well, say it then.’

He leans up over the bed and brings his lips to hers, cupping her face in both his hands as he kisses her. Jemma knows that she must taste of salt, from her sweat and her tears, but Fitz doesn’t seem to care. He is kissing her as if he cannot bear to stop.

‘You were wonderful,’ he murmurs against her lips. ‘You were wonderful, and brilliant, and amazing, and beautiful. The whole time.’

Jemma smiles, feeling a warm, happy rush flow through her body. ‘Anything else?’

Fitz kisses her again before pushing himself up onto his elbows, so that he is gazing down at her. His eyes, Jemma notes, are completely alight. ‘And I love you.’

She is about to tell him how much she loves him too, but suddenly May is standing above the two of them, a gentle smile on her face as in her arms she cradles a small bundle of blankets. Jemma feels her breathing hitch as May raises one eyebrow silently at her and she nods eagerly, pushing herself up into a sitting position, already reaching her arms out for the baby to be placed into her arms.

She barely registers the older woman leave, only just hearing the door click softly closed behind her, because in that moment her world has been shrunk, shrunk to the feeling of Fitz’s hand on her back and her new born son’s face, squashed pink like a raspberry, staring up at her.

‘Hi,’ Jemma breathes, touching her little finger to his closed fist. ‘Hi.’

Fitz sits down beside her gingerly, reaching his hand up to the thin layer of fuzz on top of their baby’s head, like the skin of a peach. Their son’s head fits perfectly into the middle of his palm. ‘He’s beautiful.’

Jemma nods, feeling her eyes mist over as the baby squirms in her arms. ‘He’s got your nose,’ she observes.

‘And your eyes.’

‘Fitz, he hasn’t even opened his eyes yet!’

‘I know.’ He touches his head to hers. ‘But when he does, they’ll be yours.’

Jemma smiles, leaning back into him. In her arms, their son yawns, stretching his tiny mouth like a mewling kitten. It makes her chuckle softly.

‘Do you think he’ll be like us?’ she asks. ‘Do you think he’ll have a soulmate?’

Fitz shrugs against her. ‘I don’t see why not,’ he says. ‘He’s already got the genes for it.’

For a moment, they are both silent, each quietly absorbed in watching the baby in front of them. Jemma touches her finger to his cheek, amazed at how warm he is, how real.

‘I hope he is like us.’ Fitz says after a while.

‘You do?’

He nods, his eyes still trained on his son. ‘Yeah, yeah I do. I mean, I know that it’s not always been easy for us, that sometimes it’s been really hard, but…well, being your soulmate is the best thing that ever happened to me.’

Jemma feels her heart flip over inside her chest and she looks up at him. ‘Really?’

‘Yeah,’ Fitz whispers, looking down to meet her eyes with a smile. ‘If we hadn’t been soulmates, then neither of us would be here, living this moment, right now.’

She considers this, twisting her hand into his against the baby’s blankets. ‘And this is a pretty great moment.’

Fitz nods. ‘The best.’

Jemma grins, feeling a warmth bloom in her chest as she rests her head on his shoulder. Fitz shifts underneath her, positioning himself better on the bed so that she and the baby are supported. Leaning back into him, Jemma has a sense of completion, that everyone is exactly where they are supposed to be.

It feels as if she and Fitz have found a missing piece they never knew they were missing.

Looking down, she notes the faint red marks still on the back of his hand, as it lies with hers just touching their son’s blankets. She’d been gripping his hand so tightly, in a way she’d never imagined she would do, but Fitz had never let go. He had held her hand, and he had held her pain, exactly as he had promised he would.

Impulsively, she lifts his hand in hers up to her mouth, pressing her lips against the bruises forming.

‘Fitz?’

She can feel his smile, resting against the top of her hair. ‘Yeah?’

Jemma pulls back, twisting in his arms so that she can look him in the eye. ‘If we have another one,’ she says, ‘you don’t have to share _this_ part with me again.’ She nods downwards, towards his hand, with a smile. ‘Or at least not for the whole time.’

For a heartbeat, Fitz stares at his hand with a frown, splaying his fingers to see the red marks better, but then he shrugs, slipping his arm further around her and the baby, holding them even closer to him.

He kisses her, long and slow, and in that kiss Jemma feels the last of her pain held between them, perfectly balanced so that neither of them felt it so hard. When he draws back, he opens his eyes and she finds herself suddenly breathless as she sees the love shining in them, a love that even after all this time she finds it hard to believe exists only for her.

‘ _When_ we have another one,’ Fitz corrects her gently. ‘I will share this part with you again. And I will share it with you for the whole damn time.’

 

 


End file.
